When Victor Shot Sammy
by ThisBookBelongsTo
Summary: What if Vic had shot Sam at the end of S01E08? And what if Gene had been the one to find him? Happy ending, I promise! Gene/Sam.
1. Chapter 1

"It's nothing personal, Inspector. Just protecting my family." Vic raised his arm, the gun aimed steadily toward his son's heart. At this range, there would be no lucky escapes. Sam closed his eyes tightly, determined that the last thing he saw would not be the expression on his dad's face as he pulled the trigger on him.

Then there was a crashing of undergrowth and the sound of twigs cracking under running feet, and Sam felt the rush of air as Vic turned and ran. His shoulders had fallen in relief when he heard the gunshot. For a moment, Sam thought the Guv must have caught up with his dad after all, but then a sudden warmth about his midriff stopped him in his tracks. Looking down, Sam watched in detached fascination as a rose of crimson blood erupted across his shirt, consuming the print in a flower of gaudy red. Then the pain hit.

Sam's knees gave way beneath him, hitting the ground with a jar that shook him out of his trance. His hands flew to his side, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood as it trickled through his fingers and onto the grass beneath. The pain made it hard to think, hard to breathe even, oxygen half-filling his lung with every gulping attempt to swallow the sobs of hysterical confusion gathering in his throat. Sam pitched forward, his entire body weight falling onto the puncture wound in a burst of white-hot agony as the world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sam!" Hands gripped his shoulders, shaking his entire body as someone tried to wake him up. The blinding pain behind his eyes did the rest. Sam winced as the bullet wound was pulled, the same hands trying to make him sit up. There was a harsh gasp, very near to his face, then a strangled cry of "No!" as fingers literally tore the saturated cotton away to reveal the full damage of the shot. "Christ, no," Sam heard, then "Oh, Jesus, Sam, Sam…" Coherent words began to give way to choking sobs. Sam wondered distantly who it was on the other side of his eyelids.

"Sam," whispered the voice. Male, Sam noticed, still held immobile by the pain. He thought the flow of blood was slowing now, but maybe that was just another tempting fantasy he'd conjured up to trick himself into… What? What was he telling himself now? Sam's wonderings were interrupted by shaking digits that stroked a path down the tear-tracks on his now-icy cheek. "Bloody hell, Sammy-boy, you pick your moments, don't you?" The voice sounded upset, Sam thought; not just upset, but panicked. Panicked and afraid. "…Please." The word was quiet, almost lost in the tears that followed, but Sam heard it, felt it as it drove straight into his heart, and suddenly he knew he had to open his eyes. Because he knew who it was out there, and he needed to stop them from hurting, right now.

The muted light in the clearing was like burning magnesium as he forced himself to blink, but this was important, so he shelved his discomfort and focused. "Gene," he croaked.


	3. Chapter 3

Gene's head snapped up at the sound of his DI's voice. Wet tears flowed freely down his face, his reddened eyes wide with shock. It looked like he might have been hopeful, except that he had given up that particular feeling when he discovered Sam's unconscious form crumpled up in the grass, wallowing in a terrifying pool of redness. Then his name, forced through obviously suppressed rictuses of pain. Not dead. Sam wasn't dead. By some miracle, the wound looked a lot worse than it was. "Christ," he whispered again, this time in sheer, unutterable relief. Alive. Sam was alive.

Looking into Sam's face, Gene read fear, regret, sadness… But something else. Gene suddenly realised exactly what he was doing; holding his DI's face with something approaching reverence, gazing deep into his eyes as a grin of relief spread across both their faces. His heart stuttered in his chest and even before he moved he knew he couldn't stop himself. Gene leaned in, very slowly, and placed a chaste kiss on Sam's pounding head.

An unassailable calm washed through him. He had done it, at long last. It didn't matter what happened next; after the fright he'd just had, nothing could throw him. He'd never known terror like it; the sight of all that blood, all of it Sam's… It was like his nightmares, but a thousand times worse. He'd felt his heart in his throat, bile burning the back of his tongue as he fought to keep his sanity intact. "I thought you were dead," he blurted out, unable to bear the silence.

Sam regarded his DCI with careful eyes. "So did I," he replied softly.


End file.
